


tastes so sweet

by kinkylahey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breeding, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Knotting, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 11:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15640131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkylahey/pseuds/kinkylahey
Summary: Isaac needs a lot of things — love, touch, food — and these are things Derek and Stiles can give him.





	tastes so sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Canon Divergent as season 3 is implied not to have happened but the timeline ( and therefore ages ) are up to the reader's imagination.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!

It isn’t that Stiles and Derek are  _subtle_ about it; Stiles is far from great about personal hygiene and Derek is always too-close, too-tactile when it comes to the flailing human. It’s easy enough to ignore though – to turn cheek and look the other way. Scott rolls his eyes, Allison sighs, and Lydia’s eyes narrow but only sometimes and never more than once a week.

Then... Then it becomes harder to ignore.

Because Stiles gets pregnant.

_~~What.~~_

No one is expecting it, not even Derek or Stiles – for obvious reasons. At first, there isn’t even a suspicion. When Stiles starts getting sick, they brush it off as a virus. The headaches, the dizziness, the fatigue... There’s no reason to suspect any of it until it refuses to go away and the doctors at the hospital have no answers for it. Wary of all they have faced so far, that’s when the pack starts to wonder if there are supernatural undertones to Stiles’ symptoms. They turn to Deaton and, well...

“It’s rare,” the veterinarian says in his even-toned voice, straight-faced as the gathered group stare at him with varying amounts of shock and horror, “but not entirely heard of. The loss of multiple pack members can cause certain biological changes to occur in the name of prevention and re-population.”

“So ass babies?” Isaac chips in unhelpfully, lips quirked to hide his laughter. Stiles glares at him which only serves to amuse the cocky beta more. It at least means they didn’t have to dwell on the aching loss of Erica and Boyd.

“Uhm... I’m not sure,” Deaton replies hesitantly, as diplomatically as he can to the question at hand. “It’s something I’ll need to do more research on but it... would appear so, yes.”

As Isaac clutches his stomach, doubled over in laughter at the druid’s response, Stiles shoos the pack from the room, shoving hard on the beta. It at least serves to make the situation a little less awkward, and give Deaton the space to do his research.

It’s weird at first but the pack adapts. Stiles is going to have Derek’s kid and, somehow, that isn’t the strangest thing that has happened to them in the past six months. Stiles’ stomach grows but he’s still the unruly boy they know. Even the Sheriff, who not only has to be introduced to the supernatural and the fact his son is dating a twenty-something former murder suspect, grows used to it.

Though Isaac isn’t there when they explain it to Stiles’ father, he is around the expecting couple more than anyone else. He lives with Derek, and Stiles is spending more and more time in the loft, his feet hooked over the arm of the couch as he complains about his back or his ankles or some other part of him that is swollen and miserable. Isaac tastes blood more than once after having to bite back a chuckle at Stiles’ misery, ducking his head when Derek shoots him a nasty glare.

The pregnancy shows heavily on Stiles’ small, gangly frame, his symptoms also more pronounced. Deaton says it’s likely due to the fact he’s male which, more than not, result in Stiles’ ranting about how much he’s going to kick Derek’s ass once this is over (an empty threat considering the fact Stiles will be cuddled up to the alpha a few hours later).

Most of the pack still only have a vague idea of how this is possible, Derek and Stiles keeping the whole of the information close to their chest. Isaac knows a little more due to proximity but he still often finds himself surprised by something new.

Like, for example, lactation.

That’s a thing.

Stiles has just passed the seven month mark when Isaac smells it – a scent that is cloyingly sweet and bewilderingly comfortable. The tall beta follows it from his bedroom down to the couch where Stiles is rubbing his chest through his shirt. Brown eyes met blue and the human sighs.

“You can smell it, can’t you?” Stiles asks, shaking his head. “No peace, I tell you...”

“What is it?” Isaac replies, ignoring the muttered complaint – he’s been hearing that every day for a while now.

“Milk. I’m...” Stiles clenches his jaw, repressing a huff. “It’s for the baby but it came early and it’s annoying as hell.”

“Does it hurt?”

Isaac thinks he remembers reading in health class that it hurts when women didn’t breast feed but he doesn’t remember exactly. Isaac had wanted to be anywhere but that classroom and he’d also probably been concussed. It had been before his dad died, after all. 

“Yeah,” the human mumbles, looking down at his chest. His shirt is black but Isaac notices two small, wet spots in the fabric. “Derek usually takes care of it though.”

“Oh.”

And that is not something he wants or needs to know. He’s already heard enough of what got them in this scenario for a life time.

“I’ll just...” Isaac points over his shoulder and turns before he can register the contemplative look Stiles gives him. He’s up the stairs and behind the closed door of his room all too quickly, rubbing at his nose as he drops onto the bed. He can still smell the scent well after Derek gets home. 

Over the next few days, the scent doesn’t fade nor does Isaac get used to it. It isn’t that it’s a bad scent; it’s good one,  _oh so good_ , and that’s the problem. He can smell it any room of the loft, making him feel warm but also wanting – hungry, in a way, and something else.

He is lying in his bed, nose pressed into his pillow though it does little to block out the smell, when he hears the loft doors open. His ears strain, curious who it might be considering both Derek and Stiles are already in the loft. Deaton, he realizes, when Stiles’ chirps out a cheery greeting. Isaac groans softly, burrowing further into his bedding, chasing the nap that’s been eluding him for the past thirty minutes. He doesn’t need to eavesdrop on another check-up.

Yet, that’s exactly what ended up happening. Half-listening as Deaton takes Stiles’ vitals and they discuss his symptoms. With a little less than two months to go, talk had also started to shift to delivery and, well,  _gross_. Isaac examines the pattern in sheets as Deaton explains that stress might induce an early labor. The vet-turned-obstetrician asks if Stiles has any current stressors and the human answers with one word: “Isaac.”

Isaac twitches in his bed, spine straightening and shoulders hunching. He is a floor away yet anxiety set his nerves aflame.

“Why is that?” the druid asks.

“He’s been... strange,” Stiles replies, “ever since my milk came in. Antsy, kind of. I think I freaked him out and now I’m worrying about it because I’m hormonal and shit.”

Isaac thinks he hears a whispered “you’re perfect” from Derek but it’s too low for the beta to be sure.

Deaton hums. Isaac can’t see him but he imagines that Deaton is nodding to himself, maybe fiddling with the supplies he’d brought with him. “Just anxious?” he queries after a minute. “Because I think I’ve warned you before that—”

“You warned us,” Stiles hurries to say, cutting off the druid. “You  _definitely_  warned us.”

_Warned them about what?_

“It’s just, with your milk in production now—” and Isaac would really like everyone to pause and remember how bizarre all of this is but Deaton keeps talking “—your hormones will be even stronger. Those could be affecting him.”

What the hell did that mean?

But Isaac doesn’t get a clarification. They move on from that subject quickly if awkwardly; it doesn’t come up again for the rest of the check-up nor does it in the brief discussion the to-be parents have before they settle back down on the couch. He listens closely to make sure they aren’t getting up to anything before he extracts himself from his bed and pads down the stairs.

“What did he warn you about?” he asks, hesitating a few steps from the bottom. Stiles startles, looking up at Isaac with wide eyes and a racing heart but Derek glances at him more lazily. There is an edge to that look – a challenge or a suggestion to back away – but Isaac sticks out his chin, never tearing his eyes away from the alpha.

“Dude, Isaac, ever heard of privacy?” Stiles cuts in, either oblivious or unconcerned about their staring match. “‘Cause like – you should look it up. And HIPAA.”

“HIPAA only applies to doctors,” he snaps, blinking away from Derek to glare at the human. “Maybe you’re the one who should look up what he’s talking about.”

Stiles opens his mouth to retort but Derek squeezes his thigh and shakes his head. Isaac ignores the spike of arousal from Stiles like he’s trained himself to do these past few months as Derek rises from the couch.

“About how Stiles’ hormones might affect any of the pack who is in close proximity with him for a prolonged time.”

Isaac heart thuds in his chest, his mouth suddenly going dry. He doesn’t have any idea what that means but it doesn’t sound good.

“ _Affect_   _how?_ ”

“It might—” Derek’s lips purse, eyes focused just to the right of Isaac’s head like he can’t bring himself to say it. Pulling teeth would be easier than getting a straight answer out of Derek. Isaac opens his mouth to repeat the question, perhaps with a bit of added snark, but Derek continues before the words are out. “It might cause your body to change like Stiles’.”

Isaac blinks. There's a momentary urge to take a step back, away from this, but his heel hits the stair behind him before he can. Staying in his place on the stairs, he looks down at them with an equal mixture of confusion and panic.

“That’s— I’m not—”

“It’s nothing,” the alpha states. “It  _means_ nothing. Even if it’s true, there’s nothing you’re doing that would make it a problem.

Derek is trying to be reassuring but it kind of stings. Yeah, Isaac is not getting laid – hasn’t even gotten laid, actually, which means there’s absolutely no reason to worry about him getting accidentally and magically pregnant. 

It’s awkwardly silent as Isaac turns that revelation over in his mind. The expecting couple are staring at him, waiting for his reaction. Isaac can feel a heat in the tips of his ears. It’s humiliating, he thinks, though there’s a sub-conscious thought lurking in the background. It tells him that this is something more, something better. Isaac ignores it – he doesn’t want to even address what it might be suggesting.

“That’s—” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You could’ve told me.”

With that, he turns on his heel; he flees back up the stairs and purposefully tunes out anything they might say. That lurking, sub-conscious thought resurfaces as he covers his head with his pillow, whispering and teasing him.

No matter what that thought might say, he  _doesn’t_ like the idea of his body changing like Stiles. Getting  _pregnant_  like Stiles.

Holding that rebuttal close to his chest, he drifts off into a dreamless sleep.

Isaac wakes up slowly, the sweet scent of Stiles’ milk like a gentle caress as he returns to the land of the living. He inhales and exhales the scent, his thoughts a swirling, murky pool. He can only briefly make them out before they slide through his fingertips. His senses are alive though -- the scent in his nose, the sound of distant, hitched breathing in his ears, and the feeling of warmth in his loins. 

He presses a palm to his cock, half-hard in his flannel pajama bottoms. He can’t hear Derek in the apartment, just Stiles. Stiles masturbating. It’s not the first time he’s heard this but, he has to admit, it sounds good. Really good, if his quickly hardening length is anything to go off.

Isaac sits up slowly, eyes blinking to clear away the last of his sleep-induced grogginess. A soft voice whispers from the back of his mind, urging him to go down to Stiles, towards the sound of his pleasure and source of that saccharine scent. Unlike earlier, this voice doesn’t aggravate his anxiety. It soothes him, coaxes him, and makes him want to listen.

And he does.

His footfalls are light as he heads downstairs, towards the little alcove that hides Derek and Stiles’ bed from the living room. He lingers in the archway -- which looks like a giant hole in the brick -- and stairs at Stiles on the bed, watches the human with his head tilted back and his hand down his pants. The arousal in the air is over-powering as is the scent of his milk. It lures Isaac forward, kneeling on the bed, mattress dipping beneath him.

Stiles’ eyes flutter open. His pupils are blown-out with lust, his brown eyes a thin ring around them. His hand stills in his shorts, eyes raking over Isaac’s form. The beta holds still, allowing him to watch, waiting for a sign -- either a rejection and an encouragement.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and Isaac knows that it’s the latter.

He crawls forward as Stiles sits up; the human removes his hands from his shorts and reaches out to caress his cheek, fingers tracing his sharp jawline. Isaac leans in and Stiles meets him half-way, lips pressed together. Though the kiss is slow, there’s no hesitation. They can both feel it -- the want, the yearning, the desire.

The scents that surrounded him in that moment -- the arousal, the sweat, and the milk -- cause Isaac to feel light-headed when they part. He inhales deeply, his head dropping to hang mere millimeters from Stiles’ neck. The human’s hands wrap around his neck, fingers petting the unruly curls stuck to his neck. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks after a minute of that, looking intently at Isaac as the beta pulls away a fraction to meet his eyes. Blue eyes flick down to stare at Stiles’ swollen chest, the source of what’s been bothering him these past few days.

Looking up again, he nods.

Stiles doesn’t need say another word; he strips off his shirt, flinging it across the room. He’s not wearing a bra though Isaac knows, somewhere in one of Derek’s drawers, he has one. It’s the only fully coherent thought he has before he’s bowled over by the scent, impossibly stronger than before.

“Go on, baby,” Stiles murmurs, wrapping a hand around his neck and pressing gently, encouraging Isaac to lean forward. Isaac doesn’t need anything more, rushing forward and sealing his lips around one dusky nipple. Mindful of his teeth, he suckles at the teat, the taste of the milk indescribably good. He’s sure ambrosia would pale in comparison.

The world around them melts away as he drinks, all conscience and sub-conscience thoughts fading into nothingness, leaving him with his senses alone -- with the heavenly liquid on his tongue, the fire scorching his insides, the sheen of moisture on his skin. Even that blurs together. So lost is he that he doesn’t notice the strange dampness trickling from his hole and down his thighs let alone the fact that it’s not sweat. The haze remains firmly wrapped around him as he switches breasts though he’s capable of enough thought to reach between them and wrap his fingers around Stiles’ cock, leisurely stroking the sensitive flesh. 

He’s lost in it to the point that he doesn’t hear or smell Derek enter the loft, just notices that Stiles’ tenses slightly beneath him before speaking. “Pretty, isn’t he?” the human asks, clearly directing the question to someone else. Isaac’s eyes flutter open a fraction but all he sees is smooth, pale skin and he’s disinterest in detaching himself so he can look behind him. “So good. So gentle.”

He hears footsteps behind but they sound muted and distant; the bed dips beneath his knees and a hand rests softly on the small of his back, right above his ass which is sticking up in the air -- a perfect presentation for the alpha behind him. 

“Very,” Derek says, hooking his fingers beneath the elastic band of his sleep-pants and boxers, pulling them down his legs. Isaac gives Stiles’ nipple a quick lap before resting his forehead in the center of the human’s chest, moving his knees to allow Derek to slide the clothing off his body. A finger trails up his thigh, through the slickness on his skin, and brushes over the pucker of his hole. Isaac’s breath hitches in his throat. “Wet for me too -- so ready.”

It’s weird, a distant part of Isaac’s brain supplies -- he’s aroused and wet like a woman even though he’s not. The same part of his brain, however, knows the explanation. Another thing he overheard during one of Stiles’ appointments with Deaton. It was beyond awkward to overhear that conversation but now he’s grateful for that explanation. Or he would be, if he weren’t too far gone into a veil of lust and need. 

Isaac pushes back against Derek’s hands, whining with need into Stiles’ chest. Soft fingers card through his curls, gently tugging and playing with the strands as the alpha presses a finger into his pucker. The digit slides in easily. 

The feeling is odd; Isaac has never had something up there but it feels  _right_. He adjusts too quickly to it, wanting more. He keens again, receiving a hearty chuckle from Derek. A second finger slides in beside the first. He feels the stretch better this time and it’s not as comfortable but he still craves more. He scissors his fingers and Isaac  _knows_ it won’t be enough until there’s a cock in his ass.

“Look at him,” Derek murmurs from behind him, pulling his fingers out and pushing them back in. Isaac can feel a weight on his back as the alpha leans over him. His chin digs into the top of his head as Derek looks at Stiles. “He’s being a very good boy, isn’t he?”

Isaac can’t see Stiles face but he can hear the smirk in his voice. “Better than me?”

Derek chooses the moment he replies to hit his prostate. Isaac gasps as Derek says, “much better.” The beta would say something if it weren’t for the pleasure singing in his veins. He pushes back, seeking more pressure and friction for that spot. Derek obliges him, adding a third finger as he noses Isaac’s neck.

“I should just put my cock in you right now, shouldn’t I?” he whispers in his ear. Isaac hisses something that sounds suspiciously like a  _‘yesss’_  but Derek either doesn’t notice or ignores. “You’re hole is so greedy. It just swallows my fingers, so warm and wet.” The words, which should embarrass him, should make him blush, just send an electric thrill down his spine. 

“Should I fuck you now, huh?” Derek continues, pulling his fingers out of Isaac. The beta whines, looking back at him with wide, blue eyes. “Are you gonna be loud for me? Are the people downstairs going to hear you?” The buckle of Derek’s belt clinks. “Gonna whine and shout for me as fill you up? Is that even going to be enough for you?”

Isaac babbles. “Whatever-- Whatever-- I just need-- Please I--” A finger is placed on his lips, not Derek’s but Stiles’.

The human hushes him, grabbing his chin to make the beta look back at him. He smiles down at Isaac, sweet and comforting. “C’mon baby,” he coos, “I know something that can keep you occupied.” 

In that moment, warm and hazy but buzzing with need, Isaac would take or do anything.  _Anything_. So it’s probably a good thing that all Stiles does is push down his boxers and pull out his cock. It stands proud, straining against his swollen stomach. His hand guides Isaac’s head towards the length and the beta takes the rest from there. He’s never given head before but he’s watched porn. He gets the idea, even if he’s sloppy and too-enthusiastic as he lavishes Stiles cock with attention.

Single-minded in his new found pursuit, Isaac forgets for a moment his need to be filled. But only for a moment and then there’s something larger pressing at his hole. Knowing immediately what it is, he moans around Stiles cock -- which drags a surprised cough out of the human -- and tries to push back on Derek’s length. A hand at his hips stills him, preventing Isaac from taking control of the pace.

Isaac would have more complaints if there wasn’t a dick in his mouth -- and if Derek, a moment later, didn’t starting pushing forward. Derek is steady, not too slow and not too fast. He’s so much bigger than three fingers the beta was prepped on which causes a sting but in his lust-fueled high, it only registers as a good thing. When the alpha bottoms out, seated up to the hilt, Isaac finally feels full. He pulls his lips off Stiles’ cock so he can breathe, savor the moment while it lasts.

Which isn’t long because as soon as Derek determines that Isaac has adjusted, he starts thrusting. He isn’t gentle at all now. He pounds into the beta, wet slapping sounds filling the air as he thrusts in and out. Isaac buries his nose in Stiles’ hip, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to mind his teeth. That’s the only thing he knows. The sensations, the smells, the sounds... They overwhelm him.

He barely notices when Stiles guides Isaac’s hand to his cock but he does and lazily strokes it. Stiles does most of the work as Isaac lays there, taking the violent thrusts from Derek, occasionally pushing back to meet them. He hasn’t even come and he feels loose, languid. There’s a fire in his belly but it’s like a heated caress and burning whisper. Some part of him, deep down, past the rational part that’s fighting to keep its head above water, he knows he won’t come until Derek does. Until he’s got his alphas come inside him. Until he’s been bred. That thought sparks feeds his fire and makes him spread his thigh farther apart, allowing Derek to get a better angle.

Derek uses it, fingers digging into Isaac’s thighs and he leans over the beta’s back. He’s panting as he pounds into Isaac, radiating heat. He isn’t sure how long they’re like that but he does notice when the base of the alpha’s cock starts to expand. It feels like someone’s trying to shove a baseball up his ass but in his haze, Isaac keens for it -- begging without words. Derek forces it in, locking them together. A few futile attempts at a thrust later, a hot flood of come begins to fill his ass. He can feel it, how it fills him up. Isaac shudders at the sensation, gasping when Derek’s hand wraps around his cock.

Derek’s cock continues to pulse inside of him and his hand tugs on his cock. It’s rough -- the only lube is their sweat which is definitely not enough -- but Isaac tingles like there’s a current of electricity beneath his skin. He tries to push into Derek’s hand but he’s shaking, barely able to control his limbs. Like the fucking, Derek sets the pace, and he sets it just as fast. It’s no time at all before the coil in his belly begins to shrink and pleasure races through his veins. He soars with his orgasm, toes curled and eyes squeezed tight. He comes on the mattress and Derek’s hand, collapsing when it’s over. Still attached, the alpha follows him down.

Isaac’s eyes are half-open, head resting on Stiles’ thigh. He watches as Derek lifts his come-soaked up to Stiles’ lips, eyes widening as the human licks it up. Stiles groans when it’s gone, leaning his head back again the board. “Fuck,” he mutters, hands returning to his cock where he furiously strips his cock, trying to get himself off as quickly possible. 

The beta eyes him for a second before leaning over. He likes a stripe from the base of Stiles’ cock to the head before taking it into his mouth. The human moans and swears, words that could make even the worst of them color, but Isaac only hears encouragement in the noise. It’s even sloppier than before, Isaac tired from the thorough fucking and soul-shaking orgasm, but he gets Stiles’ to the edge and pushes him over, swallowing as much of the come as he can. 

Some slips out, dribbling down his chin, and he wipes that away when Stiles finishes, licking it off the back of his hand and he stares into those brown eyes. Even when he’s swallowed the last of it, he’s still staring intently into the human’s eyes-- until Derek’s hand wraps around his waist and pulls him back, the sudden movement causing the knot to tug. A small laugh escapes him as he presses his face into the sheets. 

“Something funny, pup?” Derek asks.

 Isaac shakes his head but doesn’t elaborate. He’s not embarrassed but he sort of is. He enjoyed what just happened but it was sudden. Doesn’t mean he’s not hoping for a repeat.

“I think you fucked him silly,” Stiles says. “You’re good at that.”

“ _Very_ good at that,” Isaac says, and the two beside him laugh. 

Between them, their warmth radiating into him, the taste of Stiles on his tongue and the weight of Derek’s come inside, Isaac couldn’t be happier.


End file.
